My second Maigret novel. I have never easily been able to read books purely for diversion. I have always felt a certain requirement, even a duty, to read books somehow improving and of literary quality. Simenon is a fine writer, so no worries on that score with this book or, I suspect, other Maigret novels. But they are short detective novels, following a form.

In this one, Maigret is told of a body in odd circumstances and he pursues the lead, despite the absence of a body, to catch a murderer.

I like the evocation of 1950s France and the characters are believable if only sketched. Diverting, which is what you want for something to read on a train or a plane,

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